She sat on the seat of her walker, long white hair fluffing out under a pink crocheted cap with a curled edge. She had a nice sunny spot on the busy sidewalk.
Her soft skin, only barely wrinkled, spread into a smile as I approached. Twinkling blue eyes greeted me. She nodded and said ‘Good morning.’
I had seen her before on that sidewalk, always clean, dressed neatly in faded jeans, a top to suit the weather and an old cap in hand for ‘donations’. Coins found their way into my hand and dropped into the cap.
‘Thank you, ma’am. Have a nice day.’
I know not what her circumstance is, nor is it my business. Poverty? Family estrangement? Both? None?
She does not ask for pity, and I offer her none. Aging is no respecter of economic circumstance.
“Pity is a benign form of abuse.”
~ Michael J. Fox
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